Plan B
by Glamdring804
Summary: Three Guardians. A heavily fortified Cabal warbase. What could possibly be wrong? This story introduces Ulaina, Brontis-17, and Cananrd. It's the next entry in the series showing my Guardians in the Red War.
1. Part 1

Ulaina watched the sun go down on Mars.

The little incandescent disc sank low towards the distant ridge. Its thin light bled through the even thinner atmosphere, painting the usually dusty gray sky with vivid strokes of copper, gold, and faded blue. Long shadows stretched across the land as the desert settled down for what would have been a calm and quiet night.

The soft wind picked up around her, carrying dusty orange sand up from the valley below. The little grains danced across the scoured brown stone, much as they had for millions of years, before the aliens, before the colonists, before the Traveler. It would have been serene, peaceful even, if it weren't for the Cabal fortress occupying the middle of the valley.

The ugly black military complex sprawled across the entire floor of Ares Channel. It extended for miles in either direction. Low round buildings squatted between dark tarmacs and large, uniform blocks of tenements. Tenements that housed barracks, ammunition stores, and most importantly, laboratories.

Together, the structures formed a brutal metropolis of black metal and composite, completely at odds with the rugged Martian landscape surrounding them. Harsh white searchlights swept across the perimeter, cutting through the deepening dusk. In the distance, to the south, power plants belched thick black smoke into the air. Nearer to Ulaina, along the side of the valley, the ground was littered with shattered scraps of stone and metal. The remains of the Cabal's forced entry into the Vex ruins that had once occupied the site.

Ulaina had no sympathy to spare for the Vex, but the destruction of their ruins was a symptom of the greater Cabal disease. The brutal, militaristic creatures were not welcome on this world. Their only purpose was to conqueror and destroy. One day, she hoped to see an end to that.

Ulaina pressed her finger to the side of her helmet. " _Estado_?" she asked, her Ghost instantly relaying her voice to her teammates.

"No change," Cannard replied, his voice smooth and calm. "Nothing's gone in or out of the lab in the past hour, which means…"

"Valus Mru'ural is still in there. _Maldita_ ," she muttered.

"Wait, what does 'estado' mean again?" a different voice asked. Sharper and slightly metallic, with a faint accent that once originated in northeast America. Brontis-17. Their somewhat insane Striker Titan.

"It means 'what's your status,' you dolt," Cannard lectured over the comms, "You've known Ulaina for three years now. Can't you be bothered to learn a _little_ Spanish?"

"Do the Cabal understand Spanish?" Brontis asked innocently.

Ulaina rolled her eyes. _Here we go_.

Cannard gave an exasperated sigh. "No Brontis, the Cabal don't speak Spanish. Neither do the Hive, or the Fallen, or the Vex."

"Exactly!" Brontis replied with glee. "So what good would Spanish do me if they won't even understand what I'm shouting at them as I kill them? Yelling in Spanish ain't no different from yelling-"

"That's enough," Ulaina interrupted, "We're not here to have an _estupido_ linguistics debate. Brontis, has there been any change where you are?"

"Nope," the Exo replied, "Nobody's noticed old turd-face here is missing. Kinda getting bored actually."

"You're always bored when you're not fighting," Cannard muttered.

"Speaking of which, why don't we just attack already?" Brontis asked.

"Because Mru'ural is one of the best Cabal warriors in the system," Ulaina answered, "She was Sha'aul's right hand. Her job was to break through Vex defenses on Mars and hold ground against the counter attacks. When we _saco_ the Primus, she took over the Blind Legion and continued his research. Breaking into the lab will be _mui_ hard with her inside."

Brontis grunted, obviously not satisfied with the answer, but he didn't press the subject further. Ulaina was in charge on this mission, and he respected that fact.

"You know," Cannard said after a moment, "He's not wrong. If the Valus doesn't leave, we'll either have to have to attack while she's in there, or call it off and try tomorrow."

"Delaying any longer isn't an option," Ulaina declared, "We've already waited too long. They'll notice the _piedra de cerebro_ killed one of their guards sooner or later. Give it another half hour, and if she's not out by then, we'll go in under the cover of dark."

"Copy that," Cannard said. Brontis simply grunted again.

Ulaina bit her lip. This was a precarious situation. Any moment now, the Cabal could notice one of their colossi was dead, and then the whole base would be on lockdown. No chance of getting in or out, and no chance of ever retrieving the ancient artifacts the Blind Legion hoarded.

Out of habit, she patted the side of her faded purple trench coat, where the tiny leather journal sat. The journal that led them across three worlds, to the ruins built in the side of Ares Channel. _I hope your secrets are worth it, old man_.

She settled down in the narrow crack in the ridge, and waited.

* * *

Brontis-17 was getting tired of waiting.

He sat on the dusty ground, idly tossing pebbles at the dead colossus. They bounced off its armor with little plinks. Around him, the breeze softly moaned through the gallery of jutting red boulders.

The mass of standing stones spread out from the base of the western valley wall, like a forest of squat red trees. The Cabal base was built close to the eastern side of the valley, which was where Ulaina and Cannard were camped out. If you wanted to approach from the west, you would have to cross three miles of open ground. Unless of course, you used the cover of the boulder field. At their closest, the rocks came within a mile of the perimeter fence, and it was pretty easy to slip between the rocks without being seen.

That also meant Brontis hadn't seen the colossus standing guard until he was right on top of it. Oops.

Brontis sighed and climbed to his feet. He started pacing, checking his auto-rifle and shotgun for the hundredth time while he walked. He could feel his Arc energy buzzing in his chest, begging to be unleashed.

 _Punch things_ , it said, _let me vaporize them. It'll be fun_.

The colossus had been pretty disappointing. Barely lasted three minutes. And they were supposed to be the tough ones!

All in all though, Cabal did put up the best fight in the system. Fallen were cowards. Always running away and ducking behind cover. Minotaurs and Knights were fun of course, but they were too hard to find to really be worth it. The Cabal though, each one of them was like a juicy punching bag in a crunchy armor shell. Hence why he was here, instead doing yet _another_ round of Dreadnaught patrol with Derpy and Boring. Even if it did mean he had to listen to Cannard's poetry.

Brontis glanced to the east, where the lights of the base stained the darkening sky with a pale glow.

"Sally," he said, "How much longer do we got?"

"It's been seven minutes," his Ghost replied in her bubbly lisp.

"So how many minutes left?"

Sally sighed. "We both know you can do basic math. Honestly, you're not _that_ stupid."

"But I'm a Titan. I'm only supposed to punch stuff."

Sally appeared in front of him and glowered with her single eye. "Twenty-three minutes," she relented after a moment, "Well, twenty-two now."

"Oh," Brontis said, disappointed. _Back to pacing, I guess_.

His feet crunched on the rocky ground, which was a mix of rough red pebbles and fine, orange sand. Already, he had worn a faint path in the substrate.

An explosion of light flashed across the sky.

It lit up the night, briefly shining like day and outlining the distant ridge behind him. Brontis spun to face that direction, but it was already fading. A loud crack ripped through the air, then slowly faded to a low growl.

"Uh Sally, what was that?"

"Spectrographic analysis suggests the air was super-compressed, maximum volume of the thunder suggests a minimum of five million cubic meters was displaced. Something huge just entered the upper atmosphere. If I'm reading the sound pattern correctly, it's a Cabal cruiser, heading this way."

"Uh boss, you seeing this?" Brontis asked over the coms.

"Unfortunately," Ulaina crackled on the other end. "This complicates things. Get ready to move in five, _leame_?"

"Understood," Cannard replied. Brontis just grunted.

A dark, blocky shape lumbered over the western horizon. Thick and slab-like, the cruiser belched the same oily smoke as the Cabal power plants.

"I don't recognize the markings," Sally said, puzzled. "Not Blind Legion, and definitely not Sand Eaters or Dust Giants."

Brontis frowned. It was hard to tell in the darkness, but the ship looked like it was…red? He'd never seen those colors on a Cabal craft before.

"Ulaina," Cannard warned, interrupting his thoughts, "The Valus just left the lab."

" _Meirda!_ " Ulaina spat, "Change of plans. Go now. Cannard, engage as soon as Brontis is in position."

"Copy that," Cannard chimed.

"Okeydoke," Brontis said, deciding another grunt would have been too predictable.

He turned away from the approaching ship and stooped over the dead colossus's heavy slug thrower. Say what you would about the Cabal, they knew their guns. He gripped the handles and pulled it away from the colossus's corpse. The ammo belt went taut as he started walking. A sharp tug ripped the belt free..

Brontis rested the giant gun on his shoulder. It was as tall as he was, and probably weighed about a quarter-ton. The belt trailed a good twenty feet be hind him.

Oh boy, this was going to be _so_ fun.

He emerged from the standing rocks and started walking across the broad plane, towards the glowering base in the distance.

* * *

Cannard watched Valus Mur'ural through the scope of his sniper-rifle.

He followed her as she wove between buildings. She walked quickly, moving away from the laboratory block to his left and into one of the central arteries of the sprawling war-base. Her pace was…hurried, but not desperate. Like she needed to be somewhere, but didn't want to rush.

Above in the distance, the war-cruiser ploughed through the air. Brontis's Ghost was right; this ship belonged to a previously unseen Cabal deployment. Was it possible there were reserves they had managed to keep hidden from Cayde's scouts? Or was it a different type of reinforcement? Fresh troops from the outer system?

Either one was a disturbing possibility, and would mean the situation with the Cabal on Mars was in major need of re-assessment.

Cannard dismissed the thought. If he knew anything about Ulaina, she wouldn't let this development slow them down. They would continue their mission tonight, and asses the situation after. If anything, the additional activity would make their job easier. Hit them fast and hard, get out before they have time to realize what's going on.

Wait, where did the Valus go? He silently chastised himself for being so lax as he scanned the base. Movement towards the center of the complex caught his eye. He focused on it. Just as he suspected, the Valus's armored figure was making her way towards the landing pads. A fair number of soldiers were following her as well. Good. The less Cabal guarding the labs, the better.

As he watched, a trio of harvesters detached from the cruiser and began descending towards the landing pads. _Who are you meeting, Valus? And why?_

The harvesters touched down on one of the auxiliary landing pads. A small contingent of Cabal emerged from each one. Cannard squinted. It was difficult to make out any details at the distance, even through his scope, but the leaded of the new Cabal was definitely taller than the rest, and had impressive decorations mounted on its back.

Brontis's voice crackled in his ear. "I'm in position," the Exo said.

"Go. Go _now_ ," Ulaina ordered.

A loud crack boomed in Cannard's ear. The sound quickly dissolved into a wall of white noise. Alarms immediately rang out across the base. The complex burst to life as word spread. They didn't know it was only a solitary Guardian, but even that was enough to warrant full counter-measures.

The din of noise continued as Brontis continued his attack. Ajax helpfully turned down the Striker's audio channel as Cannard stood up and threw off the red-brown camouflage tarp. He was exposing himself, standing in plain sight on a ledge not a hundred meters from the nearest guard-tower, but the sentries' attention was currently directed towards the other side of the base.

Cannard held up his sniper rifle. Ajax transmatted it away in a sparkle of light. A moment later, a rocket-launcher materialized in his hands.

Cannard settled the launch tube on his shoulder and peered down the holographic sights. The perimeter fence didn't look very substantial, just several thick black wires strung between twenty-foot tall pylons. Those wires were electrified with Arc energy though, and had enough voltage across them to fry a whale.

He aimed the sights at the base of the guard tower. The black column rose another ten feet above the fence top, and had a covered platform at the top to house three lookouts. Lookouts who were still distracted.

Cannard smiled and squeezed the trigger.

The rocket-launcher bucked in his hands. The warhead tore from the tube with a _woosh_ , and a flash of light. It crossed the distance in the blink of an eye and struck the base of the tower.

The missile exploded in a crimson fireball. The base of the tower disintegrated instantly. It toppled over and spilled its contents onto the dirt outside the base. The nearest sections of fence sparked and went dark.

Ajax transmatted the rocket-launcher away as Cannard took two steps back and jumped off the ledge with a running start. He drew on his Light as he reached the crest of his jump and pushed down. The lift carried him over the jumbled rocks at the base of the crag and deposited him roughly on the hardpan between the slope and the fence. His gray, orange, and indigo armor easily absorbed the impact.

He drew his submachine-gun as ran. One of the Cabal sentries, sprawled on the ground in front of the tower, growled meekly. Cannard put a handful of bullets through its skull as he ran past. The other two were already dead, pinned beneath the remains of the guard tower.

Another jump carried him over the smoldering gap in the fence. He stumbled to a stop and took his bearings. The base was about five miles long, but only two miles wide. The labs were in the northeastern end, but most of the troop quarters were towards the southeast. The fastest route from one to the other was along the eastern edge of the base, which was right were Cannard was.

Unfortunately, the buildings in this part of the complex were spread fairly wide apart. Too easy to get surrounded here. He needed to go southwest a short distance, where the buildings were packed closer together.

He took off again. Ajax had a schematic of the base and put a marker on his helmet visor to lead the way. Cannard followed it between the black buildings and down the narrow lanes, cutting down the few foot-soldiers he came across. The scarcity of guards meant the bulk of their forces hadn't yet mobolized. Good.

Finally, he found the spot he had picked out earlier. Two broad, low walls separated a staging ground from a communications array. The gap between the walls was only fifteen feet wide, and to circle around them, one would have march more than a mile to the west. It was the perfect choke point.

Cannard stepped between the buildings. The staging ground, broad and open, stretched before him. Two-dozen Cabal were already assembled on the far side, and more were arriving.

He dropped his submachine-gun, letting it dangle by the shoulder strap, and tugged on his Void source.

Flowing vibrations immediately blossomed in his chest. The power twisted and churned, propelled by an unseen current. He reached into the space surrounding him and grasped a specific thread of reality, one that resonated with his power like a chord.

He thrust his hands outward, mentally pushing the void into that null dimension. The fabric resisted at first, then burst like an unseen damn. Tendrils of purple Light sprang to life around him, fusing and hardening into seamless barrier. Trails of mist and little purple motes danced as it solidified. The Ward of Dawn. Perfectly spherical and thin as a sheet of paper, yet strong enough to survive a small nuclear blast.

Across the field, a centurion roared and fired its projection rifle at Cannard. The slugs struck the surface of the Ward and exploded harmlessly. The centurion growled in frustration.

Cannard hefted his submachine-gun as the assembled Cabal started advancing. He started a mental timer for seven minutes. That should be more than enough for Ulaina to get in and out. Given enough time, the Cabal could probably overwhelm him, but for now if they wanted past the choke, they would have to go through him first.

* * *

The heavy slug thrower ran out of ammo, and Brontis's maniacal laughter died with it.

The quad barrels of the gun glowed white hot. The result of firing a constant torrent of micro-missiles for nearly two whole minutes. The ground around him was littered with shell casings and the empty ammo belt, but that was nothing compared to the damaged inflicted on the Cabal base.

A whole fifty feet of the perimeter fence, including a lookout tower, were reduced to lumps of half-melted slag. Behind it were the smoldering remains of at least forty legionnaires and phalanxes. Some lay twisted and broken on the ground, armor cracked and blasted, while others…well, there wasn't enough left to qualify as a body. Cabal weapons were a thing of true beauty.

More Cabal surged from the bowels of the complex. Most of them were phalanxes with their oversized shields. They lined up four ranks deep in the open space between the fence and the line of interceptors at the back of the field, planting their shields in the ground to form a defensive barricade. There were at least a hundred of them.

 _Finally_ , Brontis thought with smug satisfaction, _they sent something worth fighting_.

For a moment, they simply regarded each other, soldiers staring at him with their stony masks, Brontis doing the same. His Arc source still buzzed eagerly in his chest, full to the point of bursting. Time to let it all out.

Brontis charged.

He hurled the slug thrower towards the left side of the shield wall. It crashed against the line, knocking a few phalanxes back. The surrounding soldiers reared back, expecting a follow-up, but Brontis was already angling towards the far right flank.

The Cabal there, still firmly entrenched, raised their slug pistols and opened fire. Brontis grunted as dozens of tiny explosions pounded his armor. The plate held, so he kept going.

White, electric power swelled in his chest. It surged through his limbs, making him faster, stronger. The line of shields came up fast. Thirty feet, then twenty feet, then ten feet. With his last stride, he pushed down and leapt into the air. His momentum carried him clean over the Cabal.

For a moment, he was suspended over the armored soldiers, tendrils of electricity trailing from his shoulders.

Brontis came down in a flash of lightning and fury.

The Cabal around him instantly dissolved in a blast of white-hot ions. The ones further out were thrown back by a pulse of blue electricity. The ground cracked beneath him as the Fist of Havoc cleared a twenty foot wide crater of ash.

He was on the move before the slam had fully dissipated. He pushed sideways with the energy flooding his body. The pulse of Light threw him towards the remaining Cabal with reckless speed. His shoulder connected with a flash, and eight more phalanxes were vaporized.

Brontis growled, searching for more heads to crush. A clump phalanx remained in formation a short distance away. Even as he turned to them, they raised their guns and planted their shields, expecting another direct attack.

Instead, he forced the Arc energy into his fists. The glowing Light snapped at his fingers as it solidified. He threw the grenades at the squad's feet.

The grenades detonated on contact, sending out pulse after pulse of electricity. The Cabal flinched and stumbled back, and didn't even see Brontis came down on them with another slam.

Brontis spun and surveyed the battlefield. Some twenty of the original battalion remained, but more were already flooding the yard. Far too many for him to handle with his dwindling Light. His Fists of Havoc burned through his reserves incredibly fast. Sustaining his power beyond a single slam even was a challenge of sheer will power.

He sighed as he released his Arc source and reached for the shotgun over his shoulder. Cannard was supposed to be keeping the bulk of the garrison occupied, but that apparently left more than enough Cabal to keep Brontis busy.

 _Well,_ he thought with a smile, _we'll just finish the old-fashioned way_.

* * *

Ulaina ran onto the rocky plain with reckless abandon, tails of her coat flapping in the wind.

A hundred meters ahead, the perimeter fence loomed. She angled herself towards the gate set between two pylons. It wasn't a very large gate, just wide enough to accommodate two interceptors side by side. The laboratory wing occupied the northwest corner of the complex, far away from the main hubs. The gate would only serve to deploy the occasional patrol, while larger vehicles would use more robust entrances.

A low, thick wall encompassed the top of the black metal gate. A mini-gun was mounted atop it, and six Cabal stood guard.

They noticed Ulaina as soon as she emerged from the rocks. Once perhaps, the sight of a lone figure suicidaly charging towards their fortification would have given them pause. Unfortunately, the Cabal had been loosing a war against the Guardians for nearly three years now. They knew each and every Guardian was an army unto themselves, and didn't hesitate to open fire.

Most of the opening salvo missed, striking the ground around her and throwing up explosions of dirt and pebbles. A few struck her body, each one hitting like a punch to the gut. She gritted her teeth and forced herself forward, trusting her shield and fieldweave to protect her. Seventy meters.

She was closing rapidly on the gate, but that just meant she was a bigger target for the guards. Their next wave of shots was far more focused, and forced Ulaina to dodge to the side. The impact of the explosions made her stumble. She barely managed to right herself and continue. Fifty meters

Atop the gate, one of the Cabal finally brought the mini-gun around. The barrels flashed as it opened fire. Forty meters. Close enough that the gunner wouldn't even have to aim to hit her.

Ulaina called upon the Void and threw herself into the spaces between atoms.

Her body immediately dissolved into a dozen tendrils of purple mist. They billowed outward, seeking to expand and spread to a state of higher entropy. She gripped them with her mind and forced them to bend in a single direction.

The tendrils coalesced, and now she was hanging fifteen feet in the air, stream of angry red slugs streaking harmlessly below her.

The Cabal started, surprised by her sudden teleport. She didn't give them time to react.

She reached deeper into the Void as she began to fall. She grasped past the atoms, past the baryons and leptons, past the bosons that bound them together, until she touched the stark vacuum itself, and the base power it jealously guarded.

Seething purple Light blossomed in her hands. She drew her arm back even as it began to collapse. Her arm snapped straight, and the Nova Bomb streaked away and struck the gate with the force of a dying star. The fortification exploded and imploded simultaneously, vanishing in a wave of exotic particles and energies.

Ulaina gently floated to the ground on a cushion of Light and surveyed her handiwork. Very little of the gate remained, not even smoke or ashes. The cables of the fence dangled in the air on either side, with nothing left to connect to.

Her path now clear, she strode forward. She released her Void source and felt the twisting threads of reality retreat. Using the Void always left her feeling…hungry, and hollow inside. Such was the price for the power to split the world asunder.

She pushed her musings away as she glided over the crater that marked where the gate had stood. A month of reconnaissance told her the laboratory wing generally saw the least activity of any part of the base. With any luck, Brontis and Cannard would keep the Cabal from noticing her intrusion for several minutes. She drew her hand-cannon from the holster on her hip and started jogging.

Cabal bases were sprawling, haphazard affairs. The structures were built from prefabricated sections. This made them quick and easy for invading forces to deploy. It also meant that as battalions settled down and expanded their camps, they would simply add new structures to the edges of the base, wherever they could find open ground. The result was an ugly sprawl with the bare minimum of central planning.

In their weeks of scouting, Ulaina had memorized the layout of this part of the base, and knew the exact route to Valus Mru'ural's main lab.

She rounded a corner and ran right into a pair of legionnaire guards. She yelped and jumped back as the surprised soldiers turned to face her. They raised their slug rifles.

Ulaina fired two quick shots into the head of the right one. It dropped as its helmet exploded. She blinked left as the second Cabal fired. Its slugs sailed through empty air. Two more taps of her pistol, and the soldier joined its companion.

Ulaina jumped over the bodies of the guards, reloading as she ran. Several more turns later, she was standing in front of a squat black door. Mru'ural's main lab was on the other side. The lab where she kept the various artifacts she had discovered and pillaged over the years. Ulaina's Ghost appeared and started scanning the door.

"That's interesting," Marco said, "The systems have been bolstered with manifold encryption. Almost like…they upgraded it using Vex technology? Since when were the Cabal _that_ capable?"

She shook her head. It was only mildly surprised the Cabal had graduated from studying the Vex to tinkering with them. They were playing with a fire they couldn't control. "How long?" she asked.

"Give me thirty seconds. It's complicated, but it's still a Cabal system underneath. I can just brute force it."

Ulaina nodded and stood guard while Marco worked. The storage yard in front of the door was cluttered with stacks of equipment. That would giver her plenty of cover if any Cabal approached from any of the three paths that led into the small square.

The red warship still hovered ominously in the distance. Dozens of harvesters ferried between it and the ground. _Something's happening_ , she thought, _and I wish I knew what._

Something flashed in the corner of her vision. She turned to the source, somewhere to her left, but it was already gone. Then it came again, a flash of light illuminating the eastern horizon. Just like the one that accompanied the arrival of the warship, but more distant, towards Meridian.

"Uh Marco," Ulaina said, " _Que fue eso?_ "

Marco stopped hacking the door and turned to her, wobbling slightly in the air. "Ulaina, something is very wrong."

"I can see that," she snapped, "What is it, more cruisers?"

"No Ulaina, not that," he sputtered, "The Light…it's…"

Marco blinked once and dropped out of the air. Then Ulaina felt it.

There was a horrible sucking sensation in her chest, like something was being ripped out. All her strength evaporated, and she fell to her knees as her legs suddenly became too weak to support her.

"Marco," she gasped, forcing down the urge to vomit. She picked up the Ghost and shook his shell. He didn't stir. She reached for her Void so she could draw strength from it.

It wasn't there. Where her source of power should have been, there was only a gaping hole. Her Light…it was gone.

Ulaina set her jaw and clawed her way to her feet, fighting the trembling exhaustion in her body. She leaned against the wall, panting for breath, Ghost in one hand, hand-cannon in the other.

Right at the moment, a dozen Cabal soldiers, including Valus Mru'ural, rounded the corner.

* * *

Brontis ducked the shield bash and pivoted, bringing his fist up into the phalanx's chin. The hulking soldier grunted and stumbled back. Brontis jumped, putting his full weight behind his fist, and split both the phalanx's helmet and skull open.

Something heavy struck his back, driving shards of searing shrapnel through the cracks in his plate and into his synthetic skin. Brontis growled and spun around.

The legionnaire panicked and desperately scrambled to reload as Brontis charged. He closed the gap in three long strides and dropped to a knee. The legionnaire's shots sailed over his head as he slid across the dirt and came to a stop ten feet in front of the legionnaire. Right in optimal shotgun range.

The soldier grunted meekly as Brontis pumped his three remaining shells into its chest. It dropped, dead as an avocado.

Silence settled over the battlefield.

Brontis exhaled and stood. He began reloading, waiting for more reinforcements to arrive, but none came.

He glanced around. Dozens, _hundreds_ of Cabal corpses littered the ground. How long had he been fighting? Can't have been more than a few minutes. Huh. Not bad for a warm-up. Now, if they would only send a _real_ challenge, maybe this mission wouldn't have been a waste of time.

Sally appeared and started repairing his armor. His chest-plate and gauntlets were so mangled and cracked, they barely clung to his body. Cool air blew against his carbon-fiber face. When did he lose his helmet? Oh yeah. Head-butting that centurion's brains out. _Both_ their helmets had shattered. The metal plate on Brontis's head held. The centurion's skull did not.

The Ghost worked quickly. She repaired the plate across his chest, restoring structural integrity, but leaving the dents and scrapes as a record of the battle.

He glanced at the cruiser as Sally moved from his chest to his gauntlets. He couldn't see much through the buildings, but the sheer volume of air traffic meant they must be loading or unloading something from the ship. Perhaps the base was getting reinforcements. He'd love some fresh heads to squish.

In front of him, Sally stopped and looked up, the spines of her flower pink shell bristling. "Um, Brontis? Something just happened," she said.

"What do you mean?" Brontis asked, suddenly growing more tense, "Ulaina, Cannard, are they in trouble?"

"I…I think I'm going to faint."

Sally's blue optic went dark, and she dropped to the ground with a thunk.

Brontis stared at the Ghost.

"Very funny Sally. Get up and finish my armor before more space-turtles show up."

Nothing.

He nudged her with his foot. "Sally…?"

Brontis scooped up Sally. Around him, the base buzzed with activity, harsh lights cutting through the dark sky. The same hubbub as a moment before, only different. There was something wrong, something that was there before, and gone now. His spine tingled. Reflexively, he drew on the Arc, ready to fight.

His Light was gone.

The buzzing, pulsating hum of energy that had sat quietly in the back of mind since the moment he came back to life had vanished. Not distant and faint, like it sometimes was when he spent too much time wandering Hive tunnels or the Dreadnaught. Just…gone.

A chill went down his spine as the realization settled in. No Arc meant no space-magic. No grenades, no lightning fists, not even a simple lift. Whatever just happened, if it had hit him while he was fighting, he would have been utterly screwed.

Cannard. The other Titan was still to the south, holding off an entire battalion. If he lost his powers too…

Brontis needed to find him. He closed his eyes, struggling to remember the layout of the base. Maybe he _should_ have paid more attention to Ulaina's endless briefings on the subject.

He glanced between Sally and the direction he guessed Cannard was. Without his Ghost, he had no sparrow. No sparrow meant he was stuck here until more reinforcements showed up and pulverized him. Alone in a Cabal war base with no Ghost, no powers, low ammo, and two friends in a lot of danger.

Then he remembered the fleet of interceptors parked along the far side of the battlefield.

* * *

Cannard dragged himself behind the stack of crates as the explosive slugs tore up the ground around him. He recoiled as a plasma bolt from a psion's sniper rifle flashed through the space his head had just been.

The Cabal continued to pound the choke point with ordinance. They had pounced as soon as his bubble went down, every one of them opening fire at once. None of the assembled soldiers moved to advance though. They were still weary after he effortlessly dispatched the first squad they sent into his Ward.

They expected some trick. They worried that maybe he had lowered his defenses because he wished to draw them in. They anticipated him to be waiting to some hidden surprise. The simple truth was there was none.

He tried summoning a grenade. If he threw one towards the line of Cabal, it might distract them long enough to get around the cornere, and escape. It didn't matter though. Somehow, a simple grenade was beyond him. Even his body was weak and trembling. Ajax was unconscious in his backpack. He was living on borrowed time.

Cannard peaked over the top of the crate, and immediately, a dozen guns locked on the motion. The crates shuddered with impact as he slumped back behind them.

He fidgeted, a sense of unease growing in his stomach. For the first time in a long while, he was truly afraid. This wasn't some transient pre-battle anxiety. This was real, gut-wrenching terror. He had no Ghost, no powers, nothing. If he went down, that was it. He was dead.

Why hadn't the Cabal attacked his position yet? Even if he had some trap for them, they outnumbered him a hundred to one. Cabal were brutal, merciless in battle. They should have charged forward, heedless of danger. Victory or death. That was the essence of the Cabal, and right now, Cannard was losing.

He had to get out. Get out and run as fast and far as he could, and hope and pray his team made it out too. Cannard closed his eyes and forced himself to think. He needed a distraction.

No grenades. Without Ajax, he couldn't summon his rocket launcher either. He glanced down at the submachine-gun in his hands. He had maybe a third of a magazine left. Wouldn't last him long in fight. His scout-rifle sat unused on his back, with two extra mags on his belt.

Cannard sighed and slid his scout-rifle over his chest. He held up the submachine-gun in front of him. The faded turquoise paint was chipped and scratched from years of action. It had seen him through some hard times. He was going to miss it.

He tossed the submachine-gun away from the crates, waited a beat, and ran the other direction.

The Cabal, who had finally started moving forward, saw the movement and opened fire. The weapon exploded in a hundred pieces.

Cannard ran across open ground, back towrads the base's edge. The Cabal didn't see him until he was almost around the corner. Something heavy hit him as he dove behind the wall of the building and broke line of sight with the legion.

The agony came a moment later.

He cried out as a sharp stab of pain shot up his leg. A slug had hit the back of his knee, right in the gap in the armor. It burned clear through the fieldweave and seared his flesh.

Cannard set his jaw and stood up. He made it two steps before his leg gave out and sent him sprawling in the dust.

The heavy clomping of Cabal footsteps came from around the corner. He was out of time. Cannard closed his eyes and drew in a deep breath.

This was it. He always knew deep down that it would happen eventually. Nobody, not even a Guardian, could last forever. And now that he accepted it was over, a harrowing emptiness settled over him.

With his Light gone, at least it would be quick.

He dragged himself so he sat slumped against the wall, facing the corner. He set the extra magazines on the ground beside him so he could reach them easily. If he was doomed, he would take as many with him as he could.

Two psions peaked around the corner. Cannard opened fire. One of them reeled back as three bullets tore through its torso. The other took a hit to the arm and ducked back behind the building.

A moment later, a line of phalanxes lumbered into view. Cannard cursed. Their broad shields formed an impenetrable wall.

He fired, sending a spray of bullets towards them, hoping to find an exposed hand or boot. There were none. His magazine ran out with a click. Cannard reached for another magazine. His fingers closed around it as the phalanxes retaliated with a volley of slugs.

The first one slammed into his shoulder like a sledgehammer. Others struck the wall around him, the soldiers sacrificing accuracy for volume. Another hit his stomach, accompanied by a flare of pain. The explosions flashed brightly, blinding him through his visor.

Within moments, he couldn't even determine where the pain was coming from. It infused his entire body, pure agony. He was just a punching bag of plasteel, flesh, and bone. Darkness clouded the edges of his vision. Already, it felt like the explosions weren't even coming from his body. They seemed distant, like it was the phalanxes, not him, getting blown apart.

There was a terrible groan, like metal being rent, then a deep crash.

Silence.

Cannard groaned. His body was…numb, like it wasn't even there. He tried to look around, but his vision was cloudy and indistinct.

Was this what death felt like?

Something moved in front of him. He could feel the vibrations in the ground, and just barely detect a hint of an outline. It reached for him. He tried to shy away, but his body just didn't respond.

The thing reached down his back, grasping for something. It was making noise, trying to communicate. All he heard was muddled syllables, like he was underwater. What did the thing want with him?

The blurry form sat back, hand outstretched. Something yanked at his head. His vision and hearing unclouded at once.

The thing looming over him was a face, sharp and metal, with shining blue eyes. He recognized it from somewhere. Where? It held a peaked orb in its hand, and it was horrified.

"Can you heal him?" the metal face asked.

The orb turned weakly and regarded Cannard with a dim blue eye. Where had he seen the two beings before? A vision from one of his past deaths? No, that wasn't right. Something was blocking his mind, not letting him remember.

"Not…enough…light," the orb muttered meekly, "damage…too…extensive…"

"Can you at least stabilize him?" the face pressed, "Keep him alive? I'm afraid of what will happen if we lose him."

"I can…try," the orb whispered. It fluttered in the metal man's hand and projected a thin blue light.

Cannard gasped. Icy, blistering pain shot through his body, cutting through the numbness like a razor. With the shock came a jolt of lucidity.

He wasn't dead, but his body was pure agony. So. Much. _Pain!_ His torso and head throbbed. A concussion at least, if not worse, and several of his ribs were definitely cracked. His legs remained strangely numb.

Brontis sat back and sighed. "Thank the Traveler. Cannard, can you hear me?"

Cannard nodded slowly. His mouth was thick and swollen. He worked his jaw and spat out a tooth and a large glob of blood.

"Something happened to the Traveler," Brontis continued, "I don't know how or what, but I'm guessing you lot your powers too?"

Cannard nodded again.

"Right. Our Ghosts are still able to heal us, but we can't come back now. We need to find Ulaina before she does something stupid and gets herself killed. "

"Okay," Cannard rasped. He pushed on the wall to help himself stand up. He only succeeded in sprawling in the dirt, his legs a dead weight beneath him. Cannard swallowed. "I can't feel my legs," he whispered.

"Too much damage to the spine," Ajax muttered, "Not enough light to heal it. Had to fix your head and chest cavity first…" The Ghost passed out again and dropped with a thud. Cannard twisted and protectively scooped up the little orb.

"We'll figure out what's wrong with you later," Brontis decided, "We need to go _now_. Can you shoot?"

"Yes," Cannard replied. His voice felt more firm than he felt. He reached for his scout rifle. It fell apart as he picked it up. The barrage of Cabal ordinance had reduced it to a shattered lump of scrap.

"Just take this," Brontis said, handing Cannard an auto-rifle. The Exo knelt and effortlessly lifted him into the air.

"How are you still walking?" Cannard asked. "I lost all my strength with the Light."

"I'm a robot, Canard," Brontis growled. He lowered Cannard onto the arm of a waiting Cabal interceptor, right next to his Ghost with that ridiculous pink shell.

Cannard cast a glance to where the phalanxes had been. Brontis had used the interceptor's rocket launchers to drop part of the building on them, crushing them and blocking the path. He could even see some limbs sticking out, and hear their commander gutturally shouting on the other side.

"Lots of ships over Meridian," Brontis's ghost slowly said as the Exo climbed into the pilot seat behind Cannard. "Lots of vibrations in the crust too…"

"That doesn't matter Sally," Brontis said as he took the controls, "Right now, we need to get the hell out of here."

He threw the controls forward, and they tore away at a reckless speed.


	2. Part 2

Ulaina reached over the crate and blindly fired the last three rounds in her hand-cannon. She ducked back down as Mru'ural and her goons fired back.

She held her other arm close to her chest. Blood dripped from the tattered sleeve, staining the orange ground red. It was bad, that much was obvious, but she didn't know how bad. The logical part of her mind dredged up the field medicine lessons Ikora had insisted she take when she first came to the City. Truncate the limb to stop the bleeding. Bandage the wound to prevent it from further contamination. Tie the arm in a sling to keep it elevated.

She never imagined she would need that information for herself.

Ulaina dropped the empty ammo tube and fumbled to reload with one hand. It was her last magazine. Ten bullets.

Five Cabal remained, including Mru'ural herself. The other eight had taken three whole magazines to kill. And of course, she had taken a hit to the arm. Now she had ten bullets, and only one good arm. She didn't like that math.

She slowly peaked around the corner of the crate. Mru'ural's remaining guards had fanned out, forming a half-circle around Ulaina. It wasn't hard to locate her, not with the trail of blood she was bleeding.

Ulaina slipped back behind the crate and cursed. The last four guards were all centurions with personal energy shields. She didn't have nearly enough bullets to punch through that much protection.

She had been working her way towards the entrance to the yard, bolting from cover to cover, cutting Cabal down as they came close. That wouldn't work anymore. She needed to try to run.

She swallowed as she crouched and tensed her muscles. They had pushed her up against the wall of the laboratory building, but that left her with a clear avenue to the left. The entrance was just past the corner. She just hoped she was fast enough.

The lab. The building was twenty feet away, and the door was sealed with indestructible metal plates. So close to her goal, yet so far away. There was something poetic about that.

Ulaina ran.

The centurions hollered in alarm and fired. Their slugs popped off the wall and crates around her. Miraculously, she wasn't hit.

She rounded a stack of crates and rounded the corner of the yard. The entrance was fifty feet away, and beyond it, freedom.

Something flashed against the ground at her feet. Buring spears of pain shot through her ankle. She cried out and stumbled into the wall.

No time for pain. Fight through it. She wobbled on her feet and took a step forward. Pain flared in her leg. Come on! Just a little -

A hulking tower of metal and composite loomed in front of her.

Ulaina cringed and took a step back. The giant figure advanced. Ulaina raised her hand-cannon. Mru'ural casually swatted it out of her hand.

The Valus towered over Ulaina, ten feet tall with jet-black armor. Her helmet was painted with a white skull, and white stripes ran down her limbs, like a skeleton.

Mru'ural lunged with a flash of speed and grabbed Ulaina by the neck. She gasped as Mru'ural squeezed and hoisted her in the air.

Mru'ural started walking forward, carrying Ulaina back to the middle of the yard. Ulaina tried to claw at Mru'ural's fingers with her good hand, but the Cabal was far, far stronger. Ulaina's legs dangled uselessly in the air.

How could she have been so stupid? Mru'ural had guessed Ulaina would try to run, and ordered her guards to flush her out while she watched the exit.

The centurions were waiting as Mru'ural stepped into the open area in front of the door. Ulaina barely noticed them. The edges of her vision fuzzed as she began to lose consciousness.

"You are…weak…without Light!" Mru'ural growled in a gravely voice.

A part of Ulaina was surprised to hear the beast speak a language she understood. The rest of her was busy dying.

"You have been…annoyance. Finally, your type will…die." Mru'ural raised Ulaina, presenting her to the centurions. She felt the pressure tighten around her neck. Her vision went dark.

There was a loud boom, a hard crack, and then Ulaina was falling. She hit the ground and the darkness claimed her.

* * *

Cannard released his breath and opened his eyes. The bodies of the centurions were scattered across the yard. Mru'ural herself laid underneath the interceptor, half rammed through the door of the building.

He raised the auto-rifle and waited for Mru'ural to stir. Getting rammed with a charging interceptor wasn't the kind of thing you walked away from, but…Cabal were notoriously resilient.

Brontis hopped down and ran to Ulaina. Somehow, the Striker had rammed Mru'ural at just the right angle, crushing the Valus and throwing Ulaina free.

"She's alive," Brontis said, removing his fingers from her neck. Her helmet was on the ground next to her, crushed by the Valus's grip. Her dark braid was askew, and her lip was swollen and bleeding.

Cannard released his breath. Ulaina was okay. They had made it in time. Barely. He looked back at Mru'ural. Dark oil was starting to pool under her body. "For what it's worth, I think you managed to kill her."

"Yeah well," Brontis muttered, slipping his arms under Ulaina. "You said yourself there was a new commander on that ship. And those Cabal we passed…I've never seen gear like theirs before. They're new to Mars. Maybe even new to the system…"

Cannard felt a chill. "If what you're saying is true, we're in all kinds of trouble. Our Light…do you think that was their doing?

"We can figure that out later," Brontis said, depositing Ulaina on the front of the interceptor, next to Cannard, "I love a good fight as much as anyone, but-" The Titan hesitated, his expression unreadable. "I'm not an idiot. This is one we can't win."

Brontis settled in the pilot's seat and powered up the interceptor. "We'll be exposed once we get out of the base. And it won't take them long to notice-"

Ulaina gasped and sat upright. She spun around, staring at them with wild eyes.

"It's alright Ulaina," Cannard tried to assure her, "Mru'ural is dead. You're safe."

"Tears of a dying god," she whimpered, eyes wild, "Under a broken sky…"

"Uh, what?" Brontis said.

Ulaina's eyes focused. Her expression softened, and she looked to Mru'ural's body, and the broken doorway it was lying in.

"Yes!" she shouted, scrambling off the interceptor and landing with a gasp. She limped over the body of the Cabal commander and vanished through the doorway, muttering a string of Spanish curses as she walked.

"Ulaina, what are you doing?" Brontis called after her, "We need to go, _now_!"

The Warlock didn't reappear.

Brontis groaned and climbed out of the interceptor. "I'll grab her," he said to Cannard, "Watch our six."

Then he too slipped through the doors before Cannard could say a word.

* * *

Cannard watched the door way for a moment, then sighed and turned around so he could cover the entrances to the storage yard.

Ulaina stumbled down the dim hallway. She probably shouldn't even have been standing with her injured foot, but desperate times called for desperate means.

Heavy footsteps clomped after her. Brontis. "Ulaina!" he called, "slow down, before you get us all killed."

She ignored him and kept walking. She rounded a corner and came face to face with another door. It was smaller and less armored than the outer one, but sealed shut nonetheless. Her spirits, lifted only moments ago, deflated like a punctured balloon. All the technology Mru'ural had looted from Vex and Clovis Bray sites over the years was on the other side. So tantalizingly close, yet so far away.

Brontis caught up to her. "Ulaina," he said gently, "We need to go."

She just stared at the door, something dying inside. 10 months since that night in Old Russia, fighting Splicers, then stumbling on an ancient Guardian camp, and a single tattered journal page. A page that led her across the system, chasing after the clues left by an author long-gone. Finding the end of the trail had become her only goal, driving her across the jagged slopes of Maat Mons, the screaming chasms of the Sea of the Clouds, the hidden Grove of Ulan-Tan, and finally to a half-buried hovel in the Simud Chasm.

The trail ended in the hovel, but the Cabal had gotten their first. Anything of value left behind would have been seized, and brought here, the largest base in the region. Months of planning came next, gathering intel, forming a plan, then recruiting Brontis and Cannard. All of it led up to here, tonight, and a single door between her and answers.

She shook her head, wisps of that strange dream lurking at the edge of her mind. Maybe something was trying to give her a hint?

"Ulaina…" Brontis insisted softly. He reached for her arm and brushed the mangled wound. She yelped and pulled away.

Brontis flinched. "Sorry. I…Where's your Ghost?"

Ulaina patted the side of her coat, where she had stuffed Marco as Mru'ural had stormed the yard.

"Pull him out," Brontis said.

" _Por que_?" Ulaina asked.

"Just do it," Brontis replied.

Ulaina frowned and reached into the pocket. She gasped when she saw his eye glowing faintly. "Marco!"

"Guardian…" Marco said slowly, "What's going on?"

"She's hurt," Brontis said, "Can you heal her?"

"Maybe," Marco groaned. "I'm not feeling too good. Something happened to the Traveler. I can't sense its presence anymore."

Ulaina swallowed. She looked at Brontis, and saw he had already reached the same conclusion she had: if something bad had happened to the Traveler, it had happened to the City too.

Marco turned slowly in her hand and scanned her arm. The pain retreated, and the throbbing in her ankle subsided as well.

"That's all I can do for now," Marco muttered, "If you die, you won't come back."

"Thank you Marco," Ulaina whispered. She tucked him back under her coat.

Brontis stepped past Ulaina and stared at the door. "So this is the lab we've been staking out?"

Ulaina nodded. "Jalla's journal said he his research in the hovel. It wasn't there, so Mru'ural must have taken it. Doesn't matter though. It will take too long to open it, and there are too many Cabal here. _Apagar las luces_ if they find us.

"Weapons huh," Brontis said. He stepped up to the door and wedged his fingers in the gap.

"What are you doing? You just said we need to go!"

"That cruiser is dropping off troops," Brontis explained. "At least a legion's worth. We saw them as we flew over here. They've got better guns, better armor, better everything, and we're all out of Space Magic. If we want any chance of getting out of here alive, we any edge we can get."

"Brontis, that's a shielded blast door. You won't just be able to-"

The doors separated with a sharp groan.

Brontis stepped back and brushed his hands off. "You were saying?"

She realized she was gaping, and consciously closed her mouth. "How did you…?"

He shrugged. "I'm a robot."

Ulaina stepped past Brontis and entered the lab. The room was broad and low, and it had the same blunt appearance of all Cabal structures. Rows of workbenches and tables filled the space. They bore various pieces of technology Mru'ural's team were studying. Dismantled Vex. Warsat parts. Machinery scrounged from old Martian cities.

Ulaina ignored the trove of technology and crossed to the back of the room, where the wall was lined with a bank of cabinets. It had been months since the Cabal raided the hovel. Whatever they found would be in storage by now. Brontis stopped beside a table, inspecting a large cannon with three ribbed barrels.

She opened the first drawer, which thankfully wasn't locked. The tray held various parts that looked like they had been ripped out of a Vex structure, along with a long, jagged purple crystal. On a whim, Ulaina grabbed the crystal.

The next cabinet parts that clearly weren't Vex or Cabal. They looked like…human tech, pre Golden-Age. Before the Collapse, humans had sent numerous drones on Mars. The only ones on this region of the planet had been in Meridian though…

Ulaina stepped back and narrowed her eyes. The Vex parts must have been from the ruins the base was built next to. Perhaps the cabinet was sorted by location. If the rover parts were from the east, towards Meridian…

She crossed to the bottom right and opened the drawer. Inside sat an ancient looking rifle.

Yes. Finally.

She gently brushed her fingers along the stock. It was an ageless instrument, made of stained wood, tarnished brass, and aged leather. There was a bolt-lever on the side, and a vial of pale blue liquid mounted behind the chamber. Its shape vaguely reminded her of a SUROS scout-rifle. She grasped the handle and lifted it from the drawer. It was surprisingly heavy.

Brontis was waiting by the door, triple-barreled cannon resting on his shoulder.

"Take this," she said, handing him the crystal from the other drawer. "Don't break it."

Brontis accepted the shard and dropped it into his backpack. He followed her back into the hallway.

"Does that thing even work?" she asked, glancing at the cannon.

"We'll find out," he replied cheerily. "Any idea what that does?" He nodded at the rifle.

Ulaina's reply was interrupted by gunfire and explosions from down the hallway.

"Come on!" Ulaina shouted, running the rest of the way.

Outside, Cannard was slumped behind the interceptor, exchanging fire with a squad of Cabal. "So nice of you to join me," he growled as the interceptor shook from another explosion.

Ulaina knelt beside Cannard and scanned the yard. He had dropped three of the Cabal. At least a dozen remained. Their armor was a style she hadn't seen before, painted red, and their weapons fired crackling Arc slugs.

"Don't worry," Brontis said, stepping out of the doorway "I got this."

The Titan raised the cannon, gripping it like a minigun, and pulled the trigger.

The base of the weapon hummed as it charged up. Something clicked in place, and the barrels vomited a trio of glowing orange projectiles. The slugs hit the ground twenty feet in front of Brontis and bored diagonally into the dirt. They exploded a moment later, sending a shower of sand and gravel across the storage yard.

Cannard flinched as debris pinged off the interceptor. "What the hell is that thing?"

"No idea. He found it in Mru'ural's lab," Ulaina said breathlessly.

Brontis fired again, aiming the barrel up slightly. This time, the slugs shot across the yard and into the squad of Cabal. The blast vaporized half their numbers.

"Help me up," Cannard said as Brontis fired another salvo.

"What?!" Ulaina shouted over the explosion.

"I still only have partial feeling in my legs. Help me onto the interceptor."

Ulaina swallowed. Right. Their Ghost's weren't working right. She slipped a hand under each arm and lifted. Holy hell, he was heavy. Brontis fired again, and more Cabal exploded.

She grunted and heaved again, pulling him the rest of the way on to the interceptor.

"You wear - too much armor," Ulaina wheezed, her heart pounding.

Brontis pulled the trigger on the weapon again. It clicked, but no hum came from the inside. He glanced down, shaking the weapon with a frown.

Across from them, dozens of Cabal flooded into the yard. They quickly formed lines, phalanxes in front, their orange glowing shields locking into a wall. Brontis fumbled with his cannon, trying to get it working again.

"Brontis, let's go!" Ulaina shouted, climbing onto the interceptor beside Cannard. The Exo reluctantly turned away from the Cabal, and threw the cannon on the hood of the vehicle, between Ulaina and Cannard. The interceptor engines flared as he yanked back on the controls and aimed them towards the other entrance to the yard. He engaged the throttle, and the armored craft tore away.

Ulaina nearly lost her grip as the interceptor accelerated. The vehicle was dangerously fast, even with the weight of two extra passengers. They raced out of the yard and into the twisting trench ways of the base.

"Where are we going?" Brontis yelled, barely audible over the roar of the engines.

"That way!" Cannard said, pointing right, towards the edge of the base.

"No!" Ulaina shouted, "The perimeter will be locked down by now. Go straight. I'll tell you when to turn."

Brontis frowned, but didn't question her. She waited as they shot past buildings and smaller squads of Cabal. She prayed she could remember the route to the location she wanted, and hoped there weren't any Cabal waiting for them. Dark buildings raced past.

"Left!" Ulaina shouted. Brontis yanked on the controls, and the interceptor banked at reckless speed. Cannard grunted, grabbing both Brontis's Ghost and new power cannon so they weren't thrown off. Ulaina snatched the pink Ghost as they straightened, and stuffed it into her coat beside Marco.

Ulaina called for Brontis to turn right. The emerged onto a broad avenue, which doubled as storage for several large drilling machines. They turned right again at the end, and a short distance later, they burst onto a sandy field littered with stone blocks and lit by powerful floodlights.

The side of the interceptor clipped one of the blocks. The next moment, the world was spinning. Ulaina hit the ground, bounced once, and slid to a stop in the gritty orange sand. Something crunched off to one side.

Ulaina groaned and rolled onto her back. Her shoulder smarted. She gingerly rolled her arm in the socket. Sore, but not broken or dislocated. She dragged herself to her feet, body protesting.

The interceptor lay in a twisted heap of metal a short distance away. Smoke billowed from the remains. Brontis lay half buried in the sand behind it. As Ulaina watched, he sat up, sand streaming from his shoulders, a stupid grin plastered on his face.

"That was fun," he mumbled, sand falling out of his mouth.

"Where's Cannard, you _idiota_?" Ulaina asked.

"Right here," Cannard's voice rumbled. He was leaning half-slumped against a stone block, his legs bent at an awkward angle. He still didn't have full use of them.

"Are you alright?" Ulaina asked as Brontis stood and yanked the triple-barrel cannon free from the wreckage of the interceptor. The weapon was surprisingly intact.

"I'm fine," he said, glancing around. "These are Vex ruins."

"This whole base was built around this Vex site," Ulaina explained. She stooped and picked up the old rifle. "The sub-structure extends for kilometers in every direction, but the Cabal have only explored the upper layers."

Cannard nodded. "A way out. Clever."

"Uh yeah," Brontis interrupted, "An escape sounds like a really good idea right now. We got company."

A squad of a dozen Cabal were marching into the field behind them. Ulaina glanced to the other side of the field, where more Cabal were pouring in. Brontis dashed over to Cannard and draped the other Titan's arm over his shoulders, supporting his weight.

"Head towards the middle," Ulaina ordered, reaching for her hand-cannon. Her fingers closed around thin air.

She had dropped it. Back outside the lab, when Mru'ural grabbed her, she had dropped hand-cannon, and never picked it back up…

A burning slug flashed past Ulaina, snapping her out of stupor. She could lament the loss of the weapon later, when she wasn't in danger of imminent death. She took cover behind the nearest block, as Brontis and Cannard limped deeper into the ruins.

"Look for a way down," she called to them. Several more slugs cracked off the stone block. Ulaina glanced down at the rifle in her hands, the only weapon she had. Hundreds of years old, and only six bullets left in the magazine.

She raised the gun to her shoulder, stood up, lined up the iron sights, and pulled the trigger. A sharp crack resounded across the field, and one of the squad's Psions dropped to the ground. Ulaina turned and ran, using the few moments that bought her to dive behind the next block.

Well, at least the thing still worked. The journal described the rifle as a powerful weapon, combining some manner of entanglement-based technology with raw power from the Traveler. The journal probably wasn't reliable of anyway, so she couldn't expect a -

A liquid sound, like a blade tearing through water, followed by a chorus of panicked screams, came from the squad of Cabal.

Ulaina gingerly peaked over the top of the block. Half of the squad was gone, and the rest blindly stumbled around, clutching their heads. A few wisps of white mist drifted from where they stood. She looked down at the rifle in her hands. What the hell was this thing?

"Ulaina, we found it!" Cannard called from further in the ruins. Ulaina worked the bolt on the rifle, stood up, and ran after them.

Brontis's shotgun flashed as Ulaina reached the two Titans. A pair of legionnaires stood on the far side of a narrow, dark slot in the ground. One of them took the brunt of the blast. Brontis lunged forward, ramming his shoulder into the other one, and bringing down the stock of his weapon down on its head. It dropped like a stone.

The other legionnaire recovered and raised its slug rifle with one hand, the other pressed against its side. Cannard, leaning against a stone block, was faster. His spray of bullets tore into the armor sections weakened by the shotgun.

Brontis turned back to Ulaina and Cannard. "That was my last shell," he said.

"Just go," Ulaina ordered. She took Cannard's shoulder and pushed him towards the hole in the ground. He sank to his knees, legs still only partly working, and slid head-first into the hole. Brontis gave Cannard a few seconds, then jumped in feet first, black plasma launcher strapped to his back.

Ulaina stepped up to the slot, then hesitated. She turned and surveyed the surrounding blocks. They needed some way to collapse the passage behind them, buy enough time to escape through the catacombs. If only she could summon a grenade! The rifle. Maybe it could-

Something huge and red exploded from the blocks behind Ulaina. It hit her even as she spun to face it, moving with speed nothing that large should have. She hit the edge of the opening in the ground. Something crunched in her spine.

Her head swam as more impacts followed. When her vision finally settled, she realized she was lying on a pile of sand at the bottom of the hole. Something blocked the light coming from above. The outline of a giant centurion, bigger than any Ulaina had ever seen before, loomed overhead. Its armor was jagged and red, and the mask was painted with a vicious snarl.

The centurion reached down the opening. The entire ceiling shook as its hand stopped a few inches from Ulaina's face. Dust rained from the ceiling.

Ulaina yelped and tried to scramble down the sand pile, away from the opening. Pain flared in her chest, but her legs didn't work. She dropped the rifle and pushed with her arms, but she was too slow. The centurion's giant hand clamped down on her ankle. The bones twisted and crunched, but she felt no pain as the centurion began dragging her upwards.

Movement flashed out of the darkness. A stone block the size of Ulaina's torso slammed into the centurion's arm. The centurion grunted in pain and dropped Ulaina. She slid several feet down the sand slope.

Brontis stepped over her, another stone block in his hands. He hammered it down on the centurion's hand. This time, the _centurion's_ bones crunched.

Instead of retreating, the centurion lunged further into the opening. The gap was far too small for it to fit, but it pushed anyway, causing the stone to grind and crack. The entire chamber was in danger of collapsing.

Ulaina shouted wordlessly and pulled herself to the bottom of the sand pile. She dug through the sand, pulling out the mostly buried rifle. Above her, Brontis stumbled back, clutching his arm. The centurion finally pulled back, standing up and preparing to smash the entrance open.

She rolled on to her back. No time to think, no time to second guess. She aimed the rifle at the side of the arch and fired.

The gun discharged with an ear-splitting crack. There was a flash of light, a sound like tearing metal, then a grinding rumble. The ceiling came down in a rain of stone and sand.

Then everything went dark.

* * *

Cannard watched the sun come up on Mars.

Sunrises on Mars were usually subdued events. A faint glimmer would appear high on the eastern horizon as the sunlight hit the dust in the upper atmosphere. Nothing would happen for a few hours, then without warning, the sun's shrunken disk would peak over the distant mountains.

Today though, the sunrise was thick and red. The color of blood.

"The vibrations continued for hours," Ajax said, floating beside him. "The pattern of reverberations and aftershocks suggest an orbital bombardment of the entire Meridian region.

Cannard glanced out across the stony landscape. The sun's red color came from the smoke of the bombardment. The cruiser they had seen over the firebase was only the first of an entire fleet. A fleet of new Cabal, from beyond the edge of the solar system. And now that fleet was systematically taking control of Mars, grinding any Vex resistance to dust.

"Try it again," Ulaina said to her own Ghost, stepping up beside Cannard. The Warlock looked like hell. Dark circles under her eyes, black hair tangled and frazzled, faded purple trench-coat covered with dust and scuffs. Cannard glanced down at his own armor, covered in scratches and dents, the remains of his shredded mark hanging form his hip. He probably looked just as bad as she did.

She sat down beside Cannard as her Ghost expanded its shell, and began sweeping the upper atmosphere with an encrypted backchannel signal.

The narrow tunnel mouth sat at the top of a jagged, wind-carved slope, facing east. It was one of many openings to the gloomy Vex underworld that hid just underneath the surface of this area. They hadn't run in to any of the murderous machines during their frantic escape through the tunnels, thank the Traveler.

"Still nothing," Ulaina's Ghost said, collapsing his shell back down and looking deflated. "I'm not picking up signals from _anywhere_ in orbit. The Cabal apparently took out every active satellite. Warsats, City communication relays, even our jumpships."

Ulaina sighed. "No ships, no sparrows. We're stuck on this _roco roja_ , surrounded by armies of Cabal, and have no way of even getting a message back to the City." The Warlock groaned and leaned against the side of the tunnel, massaging her temples. She closed her eyes, and within a few minutes, she was snoring softly.

Cannard shook his head. Of course she could fall asleep like that, leaning against a hard stone wall, one leg draped over a twenty foot drop. Cannard's own fatigue ached in his limbs. It had taken him several anxious hours to dig Ulaina and Cannard out of the cave-in, all while distant sounds of Cabal laborers came from the other side. Miraculously, both of them were still alive.

After their Ghosts healed the two Guardians enough to walk, they dove down into the caves, putting as much distance between themselves and the Cabal as possible. Finally, after spending the rest of the night and the entire next day stumbling through the bewilder catacomb, they found a passage leading up to the surface.

The things they saw in that underworld were…disturbing, to say the least. Whispers of distant voices clawed at the edges of his mind. A strange weight pressing all around them, threatening to crush them from the inside-out. At one point he could have _sworn_ they was being followed by a shining figure of light. The surreal experience left him feeling strangely empty.

Cannard turned back to the eastern horizon. The pale sun was slowly climbing up the sky, and the vivid slashes of color began to fade, leaving the air gray and dusty. Movement scraped behind him as Brontis emerged from the cave, shotgun in one hand, that strange grenade launcher in the other. He looked at Ulaina, then to Cannard, and shook his head.

"Go get some rest," he said quietly, setting the weapons down and slumping against the wall. "I'll keep watch."

Cannard opened his mouth to protest. Then he realized he was too exhausted to do even that. Yes, rest would be good, even if he didn't get any sleep. He nodded thanks to Brontis and moved deeper into the cave.

He laid down on a shadowed section of the floor and closed his eyes. The ground was hard and lumpy. He laid awake for hours.

When he finally did sleep, he dreamt of a perpetual storm, shrouding a dead god like a funeral pall.

So it was that when Brontis nudged him awake some time later, he felt neither refreshed, nor rested. His stiff muscles protested from sleeping on the hard stone.

He staggered up to the entrance of the cave, where Ulaina sat awake, her Ghost hovering over her hand.

"It's definitely a Guardian channel," the Ghost was saying, "The frequency hasn't been used in years though, and it's heavily encrypted."

"What's going on?" Cannard asked.

"Marco's picked up a message," Ulaina explained, "He thinks its from another Guardian."

"It's _definitely_ from a Guardian," the Ghost said. "In fact, it's from Captain Linvana. She says…oh no."

"What?" Ulaina demanded as her Ghost trailed off.

Marco turned to the three Guardians, his shell looking even more deflated than before. "She says the City has fallen…and the Cabal captured the Traveler."

Cannard glanced at his companions. They had all guessed something terrible had happened when they lost their Light, but this…

"So what do we do now?" Cannard asked.

"The message wants all surviving members of Dawnstar, and anyone else who can hear, to regroup with her. She has something that can help us fight back. There's coordinates enclosed. Here on Mars, somewhere in the Claritas highlands."

"Claritas?" Ulaina groaned, "That's hundred of kilometers away. Without sparrows, it will take us weeks."

"Well, I have an idea," Brontis said, shifting from one foot to the other. It was a nervous habit of his, and meant he was about to do something profoundly dangerous. "But you're not going to like it."

"Out with it," Ulaina demanded.

"Um, if I remember the scout reports from this region, there's a Cabal watchpost a few miles to the north. It has a small garrison, and it should have a few interceptors."

"That," Ulaina declared, "is an utterly stupid idea. Run right towards the Cabal, when we just almost died trying to escape them."

Brontis shrugged. "Well, I guess you can just hike across miles of Martian desert, and dye of dehydration, get blown up by a Cabal patrol, or freeze to death at night."

"We don't exactly have a lot of other options Ulaina," Cannard added. "Low on ammo, low on rations, no ship or sparrow."

Ulaina looked up at the two Titans. "Fine," she said, standing up and grabbing the antique rifle. "What are we waiting for?"


End file.
